A glimpse of the past and a promise for the future
by Ningloreth
Summary: Will you give up your husband and your palace in North Ithilien, and court life in Gondor, to live in a tree with a wood elf?
1. Default Chapter

**A glimpse of the past and a promise for the future**  
  
**Author's Note**: I do not own Legolas or Eowyn or any of the characters that appear in _The Lord of the Rings_ trilogy.   
  
This story-a series of vignettes featuring Legolas and Eowyn-is really a trailer for a cycle of adventures I have posted at Open Scrolls Archive and AdultFanFiction.com. It stitches together scenes from all the stories but-like most trailers-alters the order of events and tries to arouse your curiosity without satisfying it.   
  
The original stories, though set in the Fourth Age, are movieverse and, as you'll see, I've taken some liberties with 'missing scenes'. I hope that the trailer whets your appetite for them-you can find more details at the bottom of page 2.  
  
****

**South Ithilien: The elven colony of Eryn Carantaur**  
  
Legolas Greenleaf, Lord of Eryn Carantaur, glanced nervously round the Banqueting Hall.   
  
It was almost time. Soon, the Valar would help him choose his queen.  
  
A group of excited ellyth, carefully selected by his Chief Counsellor, was seated, with their families, at the far side of the large, ring-shaped table. Legolas tried to remember their names. There was Idril, the daughter of Tathar. She seemed a quiet, likeable girl. There was Nerwen, the daughter of Findecáno. She was already a promising healer and seemed pleasant enough, though a little drunk at present. Then there was Angaráto's daughter, Alatáriël. _Gods!_ That elleth thought of nothing but sex. The number of times he had tactfully had to push away her clumsy hands…  
  
The rest of them he simply could not remember. He sighed. He supposed they were all pleasant enough and could all be considered attractive.  
  
But they were not _her_.  
  
_Dear Valar_, he prayed, _if only you had given me her…_

****

**Rohan: outside the Golden Hall of Meduseld  
**  
"Is something troubling you, my lord?"  
  
He could hardly tell her the truth. "I needed some air, my lady."  
  
She nodded. "The smell of sweat and ale can be overpowering," she said, smiling.   
  
_Ai, what a happy smile_, thought Legolas. _Because she thinks that one day Aragorn will return her love. Ai Eowyn nín_!  
  
"Why are you wearing your cloak, my lord?"  
  
Her question, so far removed from his present thoughts, took him by surprise.  
  
"Your healer," she explained-meaning, he supposed, the healer from Lorien she had bullied into treating Haldir-"told me that elves do not feel the cold. But you are wearing your cloak-and with the hood raised…"  
  
He thought for a moment. "You are right, my lady," he said, impressed by her insight, "I suppose it is because I still sense danger. Elven cloaks are designed to hide the wearer."   
  
"What danger do you sense?" she asked.  
  
"The eye of the enemy is moving, my lady."  
  
"Searching for the ring?"  
  
"Yes." She was standing quite close to him now, and he was sure she must be hearing his heart, crying out to her.  
  
"Is there anything you need, my lord?" she asked, softly. "I believe my uncle's steward has found you a bedchamber. If you need clean clothes, or a bath, or company for the night-"  
  
This was the woman he had fallen in love with the moment he had seen her-the woman who had slipped gracefully through his fingers, like a river daughter swimming in the Anduin! As he looked at her now, so poised and elegant, he remembered how her white skirts had lifted and he had caught a glimpse of her long, slim legs in little black boots…   
  
And like a fool-like an utter fool-his heart and body singing with joy, he threw his arms around her.   
  
"My lord!" she laughed, pushing him gently away, "I did not mean _me_! There are women whose role it is to-"  
  
Legolas' blood froze. "No, my lady-no, I do not require that." And he turned away, trying to hide his shame. "I am sorry, my lady," he added.  
  
"Please do not trouble yourself, my lord," she said. Then softly, "Goodnight."  
  
****

**Pelennor Field: after the battle  
**  
Legolas and Gimli had spent hours slowly picking their way through the fallen, looking for survivors. "Over here," cried Gimli, suddenly, "the young hobbits!"   
  
Merry was lying beside a dead Mûmak. Pippin had covered him with his Lorien cloak and was carefully supporting his head. "You will soon be well again, Merry," he was saying. "I am going to take care of you."  
  
Gimli knelt down beside them and gently examined Merry's wounds. "Let us help you carry him back to the city, lad," he said to Pippin.   
  
"Lady Eowyn…" whispered Merry. "She is wounded…"  
  
"Wounded," cried Legolas, "where…" He looked desperately around the battlefield.   
  
She was lying over the body of her uncle, protecting him to the last. "Eowyn! Ai Eowyn, no!" He fell down on his knees beside her and laid his hand gently on her head. "Do not leave us, Eowyn nín," he whispered, "brave Shieldmaiden…"  
  
"Lad…" said Gimli, softly, squeezing his shoulder.  
  
"We must take her back to the city, Gimli," said Legolas.  
  
Gimli shook his head and pointed to the remains of the witch-king and his steed. "She fought bravely, lad," he said. "But she had no chance against his black breath…"  
  
"No!" cried Legolas. "No, she is not dead, Gimli. She is only sleeping!"  
  
And he lifted her into his arms and, refusing all help from the Rohirrim, carried her across The Pelennor.  
  
****

**A recovered memory  
**  
"You sat with me," said Eowyn, suddenly. "You sang to me. I did not remember-not until I saw the House of Healing again. It was while I was still unconscious. Before Aragorn's kingsfoil had begun to take effect-before he ordered me to wake and dragged me back into the world… _You _sang to me about the forest. About Eryn Carantaur-"  
  
"About Mirkwood," corrected Legolas, softly.  
  
"Why did you not remind me? Why did you keep it a secret?"  
  
"It was not a secret-but it did not help you." He shook his head. "You needed Aragorn. You needed the touch of the king-"  
  
"Legolas… Look at me," she said. "Please…"  
  
He raised his head, sadly, and Eowyn thought that she had never seen him look more beautiful. "I remember it," she said. "**You** reached me before anyone else-when no one else could."   
  
****

**The palace of Faramir, Prince of Ithilien**

It was late autumn, the nights were just beginning to close in, and it was really too cold to be sitting outside in her thin gown, but Eowyn was reluctant to go back indoors to face Faramir and his 'secretary'.  
  
It was Legolas who came looking for her.  
  
"You are cold, hiril nín," he said, taking off his cloak and wrapping it around her shoulders.  
  
They sat in companionable silence as the sky darkened and one by one lights appeared all over the city. The palace was brightly lit; a functionary was working his way around the courtyards lighting lamps, and paused to light two lanterns on the gates of her garden.  
  
But still Eowyn could not move.  
  
Then, softly, Legolas began to sing. The song was not elven but human, in the common tongue, and its melody was haunting:   
  
_The water is wide, I cannot get o'er  
And neither have I wings to fly  
Oh give me a boat that will carry two  
And both shall go, my true love and I.  
  
I leaned my back up against an oak,  
Thinking that he was a trusty tree.  
But first he bent and then he broke,  
So did my love prove false to me.  
  
O love is handsome and love is fine,  
And love is charming when it is true;  
But when it is old, it groweth cold  
And fades away like morning dew._  
  
And as his beautiful alto voice held the last note, Eowyn thought: _He knows; he knows and he is being so kind…_ And she shivered-though no longer from cold-and Legolas drew her close, to warm and comfort her, elven fashion.  
  
And suddenly, looking at the city lights that glittered like a second sky, she was happy. For the first time in years, it seemed, she was _happy_.   
  
And that glorious feeling, that happiness, was attached, in her heart and her mind, to Legolas.   
  
****

**Another happy interlude**  
  
The protocol of the Harvest Rite stipulated that the celebrant must not see any of his guests before the banquet began. Fortunately, the walkway that passed Legolas' chambers, normally one of the busiest thoroughfares of Eryn Carantaur, was deserted. Legolas smiled. The warm autumn air, cleansing his spirit with the scents of ripe fruits and newly mown hay, was just what he needed…  
  
"Good afternoon, Lord Legolas."   
  
The merry voice took him completely by surprise, and for a moment he froze like a startled deer. Then he turned to face her.   
  
"Good afternoon, Princess Eowyn."  
  
She smiled and his heart broke. "I do hope you do not mind my being here, my lord,"-he had not invited her-"Faramir thought it would do me good to leave Caras Arnen for a while, so he asked Aragorn and Arwen to bring me to your festival."  
  
Legolas shook his head. "You are most welcome, my lady." He allowed himself to look at her properly, taking in her tall, slender figure, her long golden hair-now worn bound, as befitted a married woman-and her face, still flawless, yet warm and generous when she smiled.  
  
Perhaps he was staring, because she suddenly seemed uncomfortable and looked away. "Your settlement is very beautiful, my lord."   
  
"Thank you." Now it was Legolas' turn to feel uncomfortable.   
  
"May I show you something, my lady?" She nodded and he led her to a flight of narrow stairs that wound its way further up the trunk of the tallest tree. "It is up here." And _Sweet Eru!_ he thought, _I sound like an old witch luring a little girl to her doom with the promise of sweetmeats_.   
  
But Eowyn climbed nimbly up the stairs without any hesitation and they both stepped out onto a small, open flet.  
  
"This is the highest point of the settlement," said Legolas. "From here, on a clear day like today, you should just be able to see-"  
  
"The sea!" she laughed, clapping her hands together with delight. Then, realising its significance for him, she asked: "Do you intend to leave, my lord?"  
  
"Nay, my lady. I have sworn that I will remain in Middle Earth for as long as my mortal friends live," he answered.   
  
"Does it hurt-to see it?"  
  
"It is bitter-sweet, my lady." He smiled, sadly. "The sea longing is not itself painful, but it can be painful to resist. Yet I could not bear to enter the undying lands knowing that I had left my mortal friends behind. How could I leave and never know their fates?"  
  
Eowyn nodded, gravely: "Death, most times, does not come when _we_ choose it, so we leave our loved ones whether we will or no. I had never thought it before, but our death is easier than your leaving, for you must choose _when_ to leave. And I fear that your loyalty will cost you dearly," she added, softly. "They are indeed fortunate, my lord, to have a friend such as you."  
  
"Nay, my lady. I count myself lucky to have so many mortal friends. Mortals are full of _life_-they _are_ life; and it makes an elf humble to see their fragile beauty, their brightness. I love their brightness; and I love…" He stopped, suddenly embarrassed. "I am sorry my lady."  
  
"No, please continue."  
  
"I simply mean that an elf gains much in the company of mortals."  
  
"But," she said, delicately, "there will be so much sadness for you." For a moment, he thought her eyes filled with tears. "Thank you for sharing the sea with me."  
  
He should have left her then, but her earlier delight in the sea and her gentle concern for him now were both addictive. And on a sudden impulse he tried to shake off the melancholy he had just brought down on them: "Come, my lady!"  
  
"Where?"  
  
Legolas led her down another flight of stairs, back through the leafy canopy of the big carantaur, to a large flet, just above his own private chambers, where he had made himself a secluded garden of sorts, a place to entertain his guests. A table and some chairs stood at the centre, with pots of his favourite plants-brightly coloured daisies, small, sweet-scented cabbage roses, lavender, rosemary, and lemon sage-all arranged around it. But he led her past the table to a corner of the flet where, hanging from one of the smaller branches of the carantaur, he had built a swing. He had meant it for the children of his human guests, but it seemed to him now the ideal way to cheer Eowyn.  
  
"Sit down, my lady."   
  
She looked surprised and, perhaps, a little insulted. But then she sat on the swing and took a firm hold of the ropes. Legolas stood behind her and gave her a gentle push. Eowyn swung to and fro. He pushed again. She laughed happily. He pushed again. Higher and higher she rose, back and forth, back and forth, both of them laughing.   
  
And suddenly Legolas could see himself sitting on the seat, with Eowyn straddling him, her head thrown back, her hair unbound, and each sweep of the swing driving them both closer to completion…   
  
"I am sorry, my lady," he said, hastily. "I must go now and prepare for the ceremony."  
  
"Yes. Yes, of course." She climbed down from the swing. "Thank you. And thank you again for showing me the sea."  
  
He took her hand on top of his, elven fashion, and led her downwards-this time using a much broader staircase-back to the main walkway.  
  
"Goodness," she said, "do you ever get lost?"  
  
"Not often, my lady."  
  
She gave him a most unladylike grin. "Good bye, my lord. And-and good luck, for this evening."  
  
He placed his hand over his heart and bowed his head, then watched as she walked gracefully across the walkway to the large open windows of her guest chamber. He watched until she had disappeared inside and closed the windows behind her. And still he watched.  
  
****

**The moment everything changed**

"My lord, it is time," said the Mistress of the Harvest Ceremony, placing a goblet in Legolas' hand. Legolas took a deep breath, lifted the goblet to his lips, drank the potion, and waited for guidance from the Valar.   
  
Nothing happened.   
  
He looked slowly around the assembled company, examining each female face in turn. Nothing was different. None of the ellyth had changed in any way.   
  
_Something must be wrong_, he thought. _Perhaps the Valar will not bless our harvest ceremony. Perhaps by lusting after Eowyn when I should have been secluded in meditation I have doomed the entire colony to bad harvests_…  
  
But then he saw it-out of the corner of his eye-a faint silvery glow surrounding one of his guests. As he turned to watch, the glow grew into an aura, shimmering and sparkling and completely surrounding the lady who, suddenly becoming aware of his attention, dropped her gaze and stared fixedly at the table.   
  
_No_, thought Legolas, _it is just your wishful thinking. She is mortal and is already married. The Valar would never give her to you._ And yet, when he looked once more at the rest of his female guests, he could see quite clearly that she was the only one that was glowing. He stumbled to his feet and, with something less than elven grace, half ran towards the radiant woman, holding out his hand: "My lady?"  
  
A murmur of surprise-and some disapproval-rippled through his guests, but Legolas ignored it. _The Valar have answered my prayer_, he thought, _and she is my heart's own choice_.  
  
"My lady?"  
  
Slowly, the woman raised her eyes and studied his face. For a long, heart-faltering moment Legolas though she might refuse him. But then she rose to her feet and accepted his hand.   
  
And suddenly, Legolas could restrain himself no longer-he swept Eowyn into his arms and whirled her round and carried her, both of them laughing, to the centre of the threshing floor, where he lowered her gently.  
  
And, before the crowd of guests, they performed the Harvest Rite.  
  
…  
  
Eowyn blushed. "Are you alright?" she asked, softly. "Did I not satisfy you?"  
  
Legolas smiled radiantly. "Oh melmenya! Could you not tell?"  
  
"Well, yes, you did seem to-but then why are you still so-aroused?"  
  
"I am happy. I love you."  
  
"But do you not need time to recover-afterwards?"  
  
Legolas grinned. "It is true what they say about men, then? Sometimes, I do, for a few moments, melmenya, but not tonight. Certainly not tonight! Do _you_ need to rest, meleth nín?"  
  
Eowyn closed her eyes. The love potion she had been given as part of the rite was beginning to bite again. She shook her head.  
  
"_Ai, melmenya_," he whispered and, kissing her tenderly, he began making love to her again.  
  
…  
  
"We will need to decide, meleth nín," said Legolas, "what we are going to do; what is best for everyone-"  
  
"I want to stay here with you."  
  
"Are you sure Eowyn? Will you give up your husband and your palace in North Ithilien, and court life in Gondor, and come to Eryn Carantaur to live in a tree with a wood elf?"  
  
"Do you want me?"  
  
"Want you? I have always wanted you."  
  
"Then I shall-I shall stay."  
  
"I will come with you to North Ithilien and we will talk to Faramir together-unless you want me to talk to him alone?" Eowyn shook her head. "Very well, we will come to an agreement with Faramir, then I will bring you home."   
  
Eowyn kissed his cheek. She liked the sound of 'home'.  
  
****

**The long, long wait for freedom**  
  
It had taken five days to reach North Ithilien on horseback.  
  
"So," said Faramir, looking from his wife to Legolas and back again, "I was right to send you."  
  
"Yes," said Eowyn.  
  
Faramir's study was a large, comfortable room, lined with books, and filled with the day-to-day clutter of rule. Eowyn had spent many happy hours there, discussing civil and military matters with Faramir and his advisors, and working on her orc map. _I will miss this room_, she thought. _And I will miss_ him. _He has been my best friend. And for some people that would have been enough. But not for me.   
  
And not for him._  
  
"What are we going to do?" asked Faramir.  
  
"I assume," said Legolas, "that you do not object to Eowyn's coming to live with me as my wife?"  
  
Faramir shook his head. "I want her to be happy."  
  
Legolas nodded, solemnly. "Then we need to make a series of decisions," he said. "First, you must decide whether you want your marriage officially dissolved or whether you want your separation kept secret.  
  
"If you want it dissolved," continued Legolas, "Aragorn has already pledged us his support and, assuming that it is legally possible, will no doubt issue a decree. But it may be necessary to provide him with a-a reason for the failure of your marriage," he added, tactfully.  
  
_He has thought about this a great deal_, thought Eowyn.  
  
"If you wish to keep your separation secret, then we need only think of some reason why Eowyn needs to move to the forest-for her health, for example. My people will know that she is living as my wife but it will not concern them since human marriage is so different from our customs that we elves do not recognise it as binding. But any human visitor to Eryn Carantaur may be shocked by it-and may gossip on their return to the world of men. And that would trouble me greatly, for I would not want Eowyn vilified by strangers when she visits her human friends."  
  
Faramir nodded.  
  
"What do you have to say, meleth nín?" asked Legolas.  
  
"I would prefer for our marriage to be dissolved honourably," said Eowyn to Faramir, "so that Legolas and I might return freely to Caras Arnen in the future-for we would miss your friendship, Faramir." Faramir smiled. She paused. "But if that is not possible, I will accept whatever arrangement you prefer, so long as I can remain with Legolas."  
  
Faramir rose and walked to the window, where he stood for a few moments, deep in thought. Then he said, "For some time now, a solution has been forming itself in my mind. I knew of your love for one another, of course, just as you, my dear, knew of my love for…" He hesitated. "For him," he said. "And I realised that neither of you knew of the other's feelings. Perhaps I should have said something sooner. But I sent Eowyn to Eryn Carantaur for the festival-and you seem to have worked it out between you."  
  
"By the grace of the Valar," said Legolas.  
  
Faramir nodded.  
  
"As you know, the Prince of Ithilien needs a wife and an heir. In Caras Arnen," he said, "there is a widowed lady of noble birth with two fine young sons-"  
  
"Sieglinde," said Eowyn.  
  
"Yes, my dear. She-she, like me, suffers a forbidden love. And she would be willing to enter into a marriage of convenience with me. I would adopt her sons and they would become my heirs but we would both live separate lives-though behaving with discretion."  
  
"But would that truly make you happy, Faramir?" asked Eowyn, passionately. She was genuinely concerned for him. Legolas took her hand and squeezed it gently.  
  
Faramir smiled. "He and I can never live openly, my dear. So, yes, I think this arrangement would make me happy."  
  
The three were silent for a while. Then Legolas said, "But we still need to provide Aragorn with a reason why your marriage should be dissolved."  
  
"You can say that I am barren," said Eowyn, suddenly. Legolas and Faramir both turned to her in surprise. "You can say that our marriage would never have produced an heir-which is the truth," she added.  
  
"Melmenya-" began Legolas. He could not bear for anyone to think Eowyn less than perfect.  
  
"Why not?" asked Eowyn.  
  
"Because, in the future, you and Legolas may want a child," said Faramir.  
  
"Ah, but then we would just say that elves are more potent then men," she said, smiling.  
  
…  
  
"Legolas," said Eowyn, thoughtfully, "do you want children?"  
  
"Do you, melmenya?"  
  
"I asked first," said Eowyn.  
  
Legolas sighed. The answer was no. _No, no, no_.  
  
No, for the brief time he would have her he could not bear to share her with anyone, not even his own children. No, he could not bear the fact that his children might be immortal even though their mother was not. And no, he certainly could not bear to put her sweet little body through the terrifying business he had seen in the book of human anatomy he had consulted in Faramir's library. How women ever survived that he did not know. But he needed to be tactful. "We do not have to decide just yet, meleth nín."  
  
"Does that mean no? Because, if it does, I do not think I want them either."  
  
"You do not, melmenya?"  
  
"No." And he could tell she was having difficulty finding the right words to explain it to him. "Living with you," she said, "is different from living with a man-you treat me as an equal-you expect me to play an equal part in everything we do. And that is what I have always wanted.  
  
"But if we were to have children I would have to devote all my time to looking after them. I could no longer be your equal, unless I were to give the children to someone else to raise. And if I were to do that, why would I be having children in the first place? For you do not need an heir."  
  
She shook her head. "I could not, in all conscience, not take care of them myself, but I would resent not being with you, my love. So no, I do not want children. I want us to stay as we are."  
  
"So do I melmenya."  
  
"Can we be sure?"  
  
"Sure?"  
  
"That I will not conceive."  
  
"Yes, meleth nín, I can be sure."  
  
"How? Yes, I know that elves can control their seed-but how? How do you do it?"  
  
Legolas laughed, embarrassed by her directness. He cleared his throat. "It is different, melmenya, the-the climax. It is different."  
  
"In what way?"  
  
"It-it feels different."  
  
"Better?"  
  
"I-no, melmenya, not better. Not better, just different."  
  
"How do you-"  
  
"Eowyn!" said Legolas, laughing again.  
  
"I am sorry," she whispered, and he could tell that she thought he was annoyed.  
  
He wrapped his arms around her. "No, meleth nín, I am sorry for being foolish and evasive-it just feels _different_." He tried to put the feeling into words for her. "I must-I must reach for a different place."  
  
She thought about his answer. "Have you ever tried to father a child, Legolas?"  
  
Legolas stared down at her, completely taken aback by her question. She was thinking of him as old-as having lived many lifetimes before her. And he hated any reminder of the gulf between them. "_No_, melmenya, of course not."  
  
"If I were an elleth would you-"  
  
"_Eowyn!"_ Legolas grabbed her upper arms quite roughly and shook her a little. "_I love you_. I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. And though I did have lovers before we met, I did not love them as I love you, and so making love with them was not what it is with you. I do not want anyone but you. I will _never_ want anyone but you. And the reason I do not want children with you is that I could neither bear to risk your life nor to share you with them.   
  
"Now, are you satisfied?"  
  
And he crushed his mouth against hers before she could reply.  
  
…  
  
Legolas sat on the windowsill of his bedchamber, his legs dangling two storeys above the ground.  
  
They had spent almost two weeks in the City on the Hills waiting anxiously for Aragorn's response. Autumn was already shading into winter and as Legolas savoured the cool, misty, Emyn Arnen day, the slight chill filled him with a longing to begin the journey home. He would take Eowyn back along the eastern bank of the Anduin, where she would see the great falls to the south of Emyn Arnen. And they would spend a night in the shallow cave behind the waterfall-which Gimli, bless him, had discovered-watching the stars sparkling through the curtain of water.  
  
He smiled. She would love that.  
  
Then they would wait for Gimli where the Anduin joined the Erui and all return to Eryn Carantaur together in time for the first tasting of this year's wine.  
  
If only that decree would arrive!  
  
It was not that their stay in the City on the Hills was unpleasant. Faramir was an excellent host. During the day, the three of them-sometimes the four of them-spent their free hours talking or riding or entertaining guests. And at night, Faramir had tactfully arranged it so that Legolas and Eowyn could be together.  
  
The nights! Legolas felt a deep throb of physical pleasure recalling the nights!  
  
But the longer they stayed, the more he became aware of the depth of Eowyn's feelings for Faramir. _She is so fond of him_, he thought, _that it will break her heart to leave him. And all the other people she loves here. In Caras Arnen she is a Princess of men.   
  
But I know it would break her heart to lose me, too. And she is so happy in Eryn Carantaur-and there she is a creature of the forest, my elf-Queen. If only we had not needed to come here..._  
  
He heard the chamber door behind him open and close and a familiar voice sigh deeply. Then it said, "Legolas, what are you doing? You will break your neck!"  
  
Legolas laughed. "I am an elf, meleth nín, so no, I will not break my neck. And I am looking out of the window."  
  
After a few seconds' silence she said, "Can I look out of the window too?"  
  
_By the gods, I love her_, he thought. _She has the spirit of an elf_. He helped her climb up beside him, holding her firmly, for her balance was not so sure as his.  
  
"Thank you-Goodness, I did not realise it was such a long way down!" After a moment she managed to relax a little. "Things do look different from out here," she said.  
  
He hugged her.  
  
"What was the sigh for, meleth nín?" he asked.  
  
"The sigh? Oh, I just-I just want to go home."  
  
"Home?"  
  
"I miss our garden, Legolas," she said. "I miss the trees."  
  
For a moment he thought his heart might burst.  
  
"So do I, meleth nín; so do I, my darling."   
  
…  
  
_Just fifteen more minutes_, thought Legolas. _Just fifteen minutes and Eowyn is free. And I can take her home._  
  
Aragorn's decree of dissolution had arrived on the morning of the eleventh day. Legolas was standing by the window of Faramir's study, which commanded a good view of the palace steps, waiting to hear the Royal Herald read it out for the third and final time. The door opened and, assuming it was his lady, he turned round smiling. But it was Faramir.   
  
"Eowyn is not here?" Faramir asked, glancing around the room.  
  
"No," said Legolas, "she is packing a few belongings to take back to Eryn Carantaur with us but I am expecting her to join me at any moment."  
  
"Then I must be quick," said Faramir.  
  
He pulled a chair to the window and sat astride it.  
  
"I do not doubt your love for Eowyn, Legolas, nor hers for you," he began. "Things did not work out between us as husband and wife, but I still love her. She is my dearest friend."   
  
Legolas nodded. "I know," he said.  
  
"And there is something that worries me…" His voice trailed off.  
  
"Yes, mellon nín?" prompted Legolas after a moment's silence.  
  
"Immortality," said Faramir, softly.  
  
"Ah."  
  
"You must have thought about this already, I know, but iI/i cannot see any solution," said Faramir. "She will age whilst you remain unchanged, then she will die and you will be left alone-or perhaps die of grief. We do not even know if you will meet again, if you die too."  
  
"No."  
  
"I know that you would never deliberately hurt her, Legolas. But still, I worry about her. And about you, too, my friend-and yet your union feels right to me."  
  
Legolas put his hands on Faramir's shoulders. "I can only tell you what I told her, Faramir. I have no answer except to trust the Valar. You sent her to me at Eryn Carantaur, but when the time came for me to choose my lady it was _they_ who made her shine like Ithil. It was they who gave me a mortal love. I could have disobeyed them and chosen an elleth. But I accepted her willingly because she was my heart's own choice. And I was already bound to her, Faramir, bound to her since the first moment I saw her, in the Golden Hall at Edoras. I will never forsake her, mellon nín, for though her body may lose some of its bloom and her hair may lose its colour she will always be my Eowyn. And I will willingly remain faithful to her throughout eternity. For me there is no choice."  
  
Faramir rose from the chair and embraced his friend.  
  
Moments later, Eowyn entered the study. "Goodness," she said, seeing the sadness lingering in both pairs of eyes, "I thought we would all be happy today."  
  
"We will be, meleth nín," said Legolas, "we will all be very happy."  
  
****

**Eowyn makes a promise  
**  
Legolas had been restless all day.  
  
It was two weeks since they had returned from North Ithilien. For two happy, noisy weeks, full of fun and laughter, Legolas and Gimli had recounted-with some exaggeration-their past adventures to Eowyn; and Legolas had proudly boasted of Eowyn's accomplishments to Gimli, and of Gimli's accomplishments to Eowyn; and all three friends had merrily made plans for future adventures together.   
  
But Gimli had left for Aglarond that morning and, even though he had promised to see them at Minas Tirith for the Yuletide celebrations, just three months hence, Legolas was already missing him.   
  
Two hours after Gimli's departure Eowyn had found him pacing up and down the walkway outside their chambers.  
  
Three hours after Gimli's departure she could not find him at all.  
  
Five hours after Gimli's departure she was still looking.  
  
She had tried his study, but the uncharacteristic clutter there had told her that he had last been in it with Gimli. She had climbed down the main staircase and tried the stables, but none of the grooms had seen him and Arod, Brightstar and her new elven horse, Vanyasul, were all standing quietly in their stalls. She had walked to the archery practice field, where Haldir was putting a group of his border guards through their paces, but Haldir had not seen him. She had called on Lord Fingolfin, on Lord Caranthir and on Lady Lessien, but none of them had seen him, either.   
  
And she had just decided to wait for him in their private chambers when she heard something that made her heart stand still.  
  
_To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,   
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.   
West, west away, the round sun is falling.  
_  
He was singing in the common tongue, but the melody was pure elven, each note like a bead of pure gold suspended on a silken thread. It was so beautiful that Eowyn's eyes filled with tears, and her throat burned, to hear it.  
  
_Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,   
The voices of my people that have gone before me?   
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me-  
  
Oh gods, NO!_ Eowyn lifted her skirts and ran. Up the staircase to Legolas' garden, across the flet-knocking over the chairs in her hurry-to the very furthest corner, then up a tiny, concealed staircase and onto the sea-flet.  
  
And there he was: standing on the top of the low flet-wall, reaching out towards the sea, singing:   
  
_For our days are ending and our years failing.   
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing  
_  
What should she do?  
  
"Legolas?" she called softly. But he did not hear her.  
  
_Long are the waves on the Last Shore falling,   
Sweet are the voices in the Lost Isle calling,   
In Eressea, in Elvenhome that no man can discover,   
Where the leaves fall not: land of my people for ever!  
_  
Could she draw his attention without distressing him further? Might he fall? And if he did, _Could even an elf survive a fall from this height?_  
  
"Legolas," she whispered again, her heart breaking.  
  
And then a miracle happened. He turned, and he saw her, and the expression on his face was rapturous. "Come, Eowyn; come and look." And he stretched out his hand.  
  
She ran to the flet-wall and-forgetting her terror of heights-she scrambled onto it and stood beside him. And her heart leapt with joy when he wrapped a strong arm around her.  
  
"Are you leaving, my love?" she asked, softly. He pressed his lips to her forehead, but his only reply was to sing again:  
  
_To the Sea, to the Sea! The white gulls are crying,   
The wind is blowing, and the white foam is flying.   
West, west away, the round sun is falling.   
Grey ship, grey ship, do you hear them calling,   
The voices of my people that have gone before me?   
I will leave, I will leave the woods that bore me;  
For our days are ending and our years failing.   
I will pass the wide waters lonely sailing…   
_  
His voice trailed away.   
  
"Eowyn nín," he whispered, kissing her again. "I will not leave you, Eowyn nín. No, I will never leave you whilst I remember-but, sometimes, I forget…"  
  
"Forget what, Legolas?"  
  
"Everything, meleth nín-my life; my love."  
  
He turned to face her, his eyes still large with sea longing but his mind suddenly lucid. "The sea longing is like physical desire, meleth nín," he said, "it is deep and visceral and it demands satisfaction. When I am with Gimli or Aragorn, or when I am distracted by the demands of rule, the sea's call has less power; and when I am with _you_, Eowyn nín, her call has no power at all.  
  
"But sometimes, when I am alone, she takes me by surprise. And her voice holds such temptation-she whispers of a life of eternal joy, where pain and sadness have been banished. A life of sailing and singing. She promises me a peace and contentment I cannot resist.   
  
"And I am so afraid meleth nín-I am afraid that I might one day heed her call and leave for Valinor without knowing-until it is too late-what I am leaving behind-Oh, Eowyn nín. Melethril nín," he sobbed.  
  
_Oh, Legolas, do not leave me,_ she thought, _Do not ever leave me, my love. I could not live without you_. But she said, in a voice full of courage, "I will not let you leave, Legolas! If the sea should seduce you, or force you against your will, I will sail after you and I will pull you back-even if you reach Valinor I will bring you back. And if the Valar turn me away from the undying lands I will wait out to sea, calling to you, until your senses return and you swim back to me. I will not abandon you, Legolas. Not while there is breath still left in my body!"  
  
"Do you promise, Eowyn nín," he sobbed, "do you swear it?"  
  
"On my life," she said. And then, because her life was not precious enough, she added, "I swear it on my love for you."


	2. Chapter 2

**To the Sea, to the Sea!**  
  
Imrahil ran over the shingle beach. "Legolas, what are you doing?" he asked, putting a hand on the elf's arm. Legolas, standing knee-deep in the water-and unaware of the man until now-spun round and stared at him wildly.  
  
_Gods, his eyes!_ thought Imrahil.   
  
"Come, Legolas," he said, reaching again for the elf's arm, "come with me. Eowyn is waiting. She will be worried." And he tried to pull the elf back to the shore, but a stinging blow sent him reeling full length into the sea.  
  
Imrahil lifted himself onto his elbows and spat out a mouthful of seawater. Legolas was wading still deeper. _By the gods_, he thought, _his mind has completely gone. I must get help_.  
  
…  
  
By the time Imrahil returned, with Aragorn, Gimli and Eomer, Legolas was submerged up to his shoulders in seawater.  
  
"I knew it," hissed Eomer. "_'I love her, Eomer_,' he said. '_I will never leave her_,' he said. But I knew an elf could not be trusted. So what do we do now?"  
  
"He cannot be reasoned with," said Imrahil. "I have tried. So I suggest that we three wade out to him and drag him back by force. Then we take him to his chambers and let Eowyn deal with him."  
  
"Carry me out to him," said Gimli.  
  
"Gimli…"  
  
"Carry me out to him, Aragorn, or I will drown myself."  
  
Aragorn nodded to his two human companions then lifted Gimli onto his back and the four friends waded out towards Legolas.  
  
"Do not get too close," said Gimli "or you will startle him. But can you get me round in front of him?"  
  
"No," said Aragorn, spitting out some water, "he is taller than I am, and it will be deeper in front of him."  
  
"Very well," said the dwarf, "then let us stay here." Gimli gathered his thoughts.   
  
"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING YOU CRAZY ELF?" he bellowed, "YOU HAVE TERRIFIED YOUR BEST FRIENDS WITH THIS NONSENSE AND IF YOUR LADY COULD SEE YOU HER HEART WOULD BREAK IN TWO!"  
  
Something in the elf's posture changed and, briefly lucid, he turned to stare at the dwarf. "Gimli?" he asked, in a small, frightened voice. But then his eyes glazed over once more and he turned back to gaze at the horizon.  
  
"Carry me in closer," said Gimli.  
  
Taking a deep breath and holding it, Aragorn took two more steps towards the elf. Gimli drew his axe and struck Legolas hard with the flat of the blade. The elf sagged. Eomer threw himself forward, catching the elf's shoulders before he could slide beneath the water, and Imrahil ducked below the surface, grabbing his feet. Together the two men rushed the stunned elf back to the shore and dumped him on the shingle.  
  
"You might have given us some warning," gasped Eomer to Gimli.  
  
"And risk warning the elf?" asked Gimli.  
  
But though Legolas was stunned he was still conscious and he immediately tried to get to his feet. "Stay there," yelled Eomer, throwing himself bodily on top of his friend, trying to pin him down. But the elf was stronger, and easily pushed Eomer off his back, then rose to his hands and knees and began crawling towards the sea. Simultaneously, all four friends jumped on him and held him down. And, though Legolas continued to struggle, even an elf was no match for four sturdy warriors.  
  
"Now that we have him, let us get him back to Eowyn," panted Imrahil, "quickly."  
  
…  
  
It was no easy task to carry an angry, struggling elf back through the city gate, through the city streets, into the castle, and up the spiral staircase to his own bedchamber.  
  
Several times, a well-aimed kick or punch sent one of the friends staggering. Then there was the shrieking to contend with. And, on top of that, as they passed by _The Pyewype_ tavern, a few of the citizens of Dol Amroth, imagining that the elf was being murdered, attempted to rescue him-until they realised that the blackguards they were thumping were in fact the kings of Gondor and Rohan, and their own prince.  
  
"If you do not stop that noise, elf," warned Gimli, finally losing all patience, "I will be forced to use the _blade_ of my axe on you." And he scowled, murderously.  
  
After that, Legolas quietened down slightly, but that did not stop him landing the odd blow, here and there, when the opportunity arose. The most difficult part of the journey proved to be the staircase, because Legolas soon found that by stretching out his arms and legs he could wedge himself in the stairwell. Luckily, Haldir, who was recovering well from his ordeal on the galley, and Master Dínendal, the healer, joined the fray and, eventually, the three men, the two elves and the one dwarf succeeded in propelling the screeching, struggling elf through the door and into his bedchamber.  
  
Then everything stopped-even the elf stopped struggling and stared.  
  
Eowyn, dressed in a gown of the purest white silk and looking like a spirit in human form, was standing before them. "Legolas?" she said, and she stretched out her hand towards his face. And the elf leaned towards her and pressed his cheek into the palm of her hand.  
  
"What has happened?" she asked.  
  
"We do not know, Eowyn," said Aragorn. "We found him up to his neck in the sea. He does not know us… He does not know himself. He is like a wild animal." He shook his head. "It is as if his sea longing has turned into something wholly destructive. It is almost as if he has been bewitched-"  
  
"Oh gods," cried Imrahil. "I gave him permission to question the apothecary. Perhaps he…"  
  
But Imrahil could not voice what they were all now thinking.  
  
"Master Dínendal," said Aragorn, "can you do anything to restore his wits?"  
  
Carefully, as if dealing with a nervous horse, Dínendal approached the now subdued elf-but the moment he got close, Legolas lashed out at him.  
  
"No, no, my love," said Eowyn, catching his hand. Legolas stared at her, not recognising her but clearly fascinated by her.   
  
Eowyn pointed to a heavy chair. "Sit him down there," she said.  
  
"It is not safe, my lady," said Haldir. "We must take him somewhere where he can be properly restrained-"  
  
"No," said Eowyn, "I will not permit that. Sit him down there."  
  
"Very well, Eowyn," said Aragorn, "but we must _tie_ him down."  
  
Eowyn bit her lip but agreed, reluctantly. The elf began to struggle again as Imrahil and Eomer held him down on the chair, but Aragorn used two leather belts to secure his wrists.  
  
"Is that really necessary, your Majesty?" asked Dínendal.  
  
"Until you can find some way to cure him, Master Dínendal, yes, I am afraid it is."  
  
"Leave me alone with him," said Eowyn.  
  
"Are you mad?" cried Eomer, grasping her shoulders.  
  
"You have seen how gentle he is with me," said Eowyn, wrenching herself free. "Leave me alone with him."  
  
"My lady-" began Haldir  
  
"I promised him, Haldir. I promised I would bring him back from the sea."  
  
"This is not just the sea, my lady-" he said gently.  
  
"I promised him!"  
  
"But what if you cannot?" asked Aragorn.  
  
"Then I will take him to the Undying Lands-Haldir will help me."  
  
"My lady!" Even her champion, Haldir, was astonished by Eowyn's temerity.  
  
"Yes Haldir," she said, stroking Legolas' hair. "If he does not recover we will not let him suffer like this. We will take him to Valinor and then we will wait offshore, in case he should come to his senses. Now, please, all of you, leave me alone with him."  
  
"This is madness!" cried Eomer, "Eowyn-"  
  
"My mind is made up, Eomer! Leave me alone with him."  
  
Aragorn sighed. "He is already calmer, and more lucid, now that he is with her. We will leave them. But we will stay nearby, in the sitting room below," he said to Eowyn. "And if you need us, you have only to call."  
  
"Thank you, Aragorn."  
  
The men, the elves and the dwarf filed out reluctantly-Eomer giving his sister a pointed look. Then Eowyn locked the door behind them, walked over to Legolas, and began to free his hands.  
  
"Can you speak to me, my love?"  
  
Legolas tipped his head to one side and looked at her intently, like a bird.  
  
"Do you know me?" she asked, softly.  
  
"Have we met before?" he asked.  
  
"So you _can_ speak," she said. "Yes, my love, we have met before. We know each other intimately." And she unstrapped his hands and knelt before him, placing her own hands lightly on his knees, and looked up into his stormy blue eyes.  
  
He had once told her that the sea longing was like desire, and she could see the lust in his eyes now-he had been denied the sea and instead he wanted _her_.   
  
"Let me help you find your way back, my love," she whispered. And she gave herself to him without hesitation.  
  
…  
  
"Eowyn? Eowyn, melmenya, did I hurt you? Please do not cry, Eowyn nín."  
  
But tears continued to stream down Eowyn's face and, smiling through them, she said, "No, my love, you did not hurt me. The sea had claimed you; the sea thought she had finally won you. But you have come back. You have come back to **me**."

****

**An orc hunt  
**  
Gimli had no idea how to take a prisoner-he suspected it involved pointing an arrow at the victim and making some sort of threat. _The March Warden will be in his element_, he thought. _But I will have to improvise.  
_  
He selected a slow-moving Uruk Hai as his target, drew his axe and ran towards it. It was sluggish-the whole band was sluggish-but big. Using a slight incline topped with a large flat stone as a ramp, Gimli leapt into the air, throwing himself onto the Uruk's back and battering it about the head with the flat of his axe. Caught completely by surprise, the Uruk Hai had no defence. It sank to the ground, unconscious, taking Gimli with it, and trapping the dwarf's legs beneath the dead weight of its great torso.  
  
Gimli pushed his hands against the Uruk's shoulders, struggling to free himself-_Just who is supposed to be the prisoner here?_ he wondered.  
  
Then a commotion amongst the elves to his right caught his attention. A warg was rampaging through the encampment, trampling all in its path, and heading straight towards him-"Awwww!" Gimli roared, pushing, and wriggling, and swearing, but he could not free himself.   
  
_So this is it_, he thought and he turned his head to face his doom.  
  
But a small warrior with long golden hair had placed herself between him and the galloping beast. She raised her sword and awaited her chance.  
  
…  
  
"Gimli!"   
  
Legolas had heard his friend's battle cry and was running towards him, knives drawn, already aware that he might be too late, when, with a mixture of horror and pride, he saw his wife place herself in the path of the furious warg.   
  
Eowyn waited, sword raised, until the animal was almost on top of her. Then, like a bullfighter, she stepped aside at the critical moment, and calmly brought her blade down in a two-handed slice.  
  
The beast fell to its knees within inches of the dwarf's chest, its head almost severed from its neck.

****

**Eomer plays the big brother  
**  
Legolas picked up the leather dispatch bag, broke the seal, unfastened the buckles, and had just started to pull out the papers when someone in a hurry knocked loudly at the door.   
  
"Come in," he called.  
  
The door flew open. "Eomer," said Legolas. "Come in. Sit down. How can I help y-"  
  
"I have had to wait two days to get you alone," cried Eomer. "What _possessed_ you to take her on an orc hunt? She could have been killed-ripped from throat to belly, like Theodred. She could have been raped-left permanently crippled, or mad, or _pregnant_-"  
  
"I know."  
  
"She could have been taken off to their den and used as a-"  
  
"I _know_! Do you think I wanted to take her?" shouted Legolas. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. "Please, Eomer, sit down. I had planned to leave her at Eryn Carantaur. I was terrified that something would happen to her-but she persuaded me-"  
  
"The way she was persuading you last night, outside the Banqueting Hall, no doubt."  
  
Legolas gave him a dark look. "I hope you did not stay to watch," he said softly.  
  
"I did not need to watch," said Eomer. "Her commentary was perfectly explicit and could be heard all the way to my apartment."  
  
"Eomer!" cried Legolas.  
  
"You are a bad influence on her-"  
  
"Will you sit down!" Legolas pushed the irate king into a chair. "Good. Now-" he cried, "listen! I took her on the raid because her determination-her refusal to give in-broke me. I could not leave her behind. She threatened to follow us by herself."   
  
"You should have locked her up."  
  
"She would have escaped, Eomer," he said. "You know how resourceful she is." He suddenly smiled, fondly. "There is no one like her! She is unique."   
  
He poured two glasses of spiced wine. "Here," he said, handing one to the king. "I know that you have always felt responsible for her-though, in truth, she is stronger than any of us-but you cannot keep her wrapped in swansdown. Eowyn has the spirit of a warrior and-however much you want to protect her-if you keep her caged you will destroy her. So no-though it terrifies me-I am _not_ going to try to stop her training, I am _not_ going to try to stop her fighting, and I am _not_ going to try to stop her going on orc raids. I am going to let her be herself-"  
  
He was interrupted by another knock. He set down his wine, and went to the door.  
  
"Ah, Mistress Hereswið," he said, "come in."  
  
The woman entered carrying a large, flat parcel, but when she saw Eomer, she stopped. "I am sorry, my lord," she said, "I am interrupting you. Shall I come back later?"  
  
"Certainly not, mistress," said Legolas, "I am anxious to see your work."  
  
The woman smiled and laid her parcel on the bed. Legolas opened it, unfolded its contents and examined them carefully. Then he held them up for his brother-in-law to see.  
  
"What do you think, Eomer?"  
  
Eomer searched for the correct response. "It is blue," he said. Legolas' face told him that he had failed. "-Fine," he corrected. "It is a very _fine_ gown indeed. Blue."  
  
Legolas shook his head. "It is perfect, Mistress Hereswið," he said. "The cut of the bodice and the beading around the neckline…" He ran his fingers over the embroidered icicles. "And the sleeves…" He examined the beaded white lace. "The sleeves remind me of frost on a pane of glass!"  
  
"And am so pleased that you like it, my lord-and the head-dress was made by Queen Arwen's own jeweller." The woman held up an intricate silver coronet decorated with trailing strings of blue and ice-coloured beads.  
  
"She will look wonderful, mistress," said Legolas. He carefully laid the gown on the bed and fetched his money pouch from the desk. "Five hundred gold pieces, I believe?" Eomer choked on his wine. Legolas counted out the money and handed it to the dressmaker. "Thank you Mistress Hereswið. I shall be sure to recommend you to my friends."  
  
The woman bowed and left.  
  
Eomer shook his head. "I do not understand you," he said.  
  
"Why?" asked Legolas, carefully folding the gown.  
  
"One moment you act like a Uruk Hai beserker, the next you act like a girl."  
  
Legolas turned and stared. "A girl?"  
  
"All this." Eomer waved his hand at the gown. "Lace and ribbons…"  
  
"This is for Eowyn," said Legolas.  
  
"Choosing her clothes, dressing her up like a doll. It is not manly."  
  
"I am not a man," said Legolas.

****

**A premonition?**  
  
_Legolas took one last look at Middle Earth.  
  
How he would miss it! The mountains of Gondor, the plains of Rohan, his beloved trees of Eryn Carantaur. But it was all in safe hands. Eldarion would carry on his father's work with wisdom and honour. Elfwine King had been ruling Rohan in peace and prosperity for many years. And his own son had taken over the guardianship of Eryn Carantaur.  
  
"Are you ready, my love?" asked a voice beside him.  
  
He nodded. "Are_ you _ready?" he replied.  
  
"I have said my good byes," she said. "And though I shall miss Meldon every moment of every day, I know that he will join us when it is his time." Then she added, in a whisper, "Haldir is growing impatient and I think Gimli is getting tired, Lassui."  
  
"Of course," he said. "Let us go."  
  
And he took Eowyn's small, smooth hand upon his own, elven fashion, and led her down the steps and along the quay, and onto the grey ship_.  
  
…  
  
Legolas sat bolt upright. He remembered them. He remembered all of them. Every dream he had had since the Winter Solstice.  
  
Dreams of Eowyn. Unchanging. Immortal.  
  
And of their child-a son.   
  
_But we have lost the child_, he thought, _so the dreams…_  
  
He looked down at Eowyn, sleeping beside him. He could not tell her. But he needed to tell someone. He needed to know what the dreams meant.  
  
…  
  
Aragorn opened the door almost immediately. "Good morning, mellon nín," he said. "That tap had to be you-or one of my brothers. Come in." He closed the door. "Sit down-and tell me what is troubling you."  
  
"Is it so obvious?"  
  
"To one who has lived most of his life amongst elves, yes."  
  
"Do you know anything about dreams?"  
  
"Has Eowyn been having nightmares?"  
  
Legolas shook his head. "No, I am the one who has been dreaming-about her."  
  
Aragorn looked surprised. "Have you ever dreamed before?"  
  
Legolas lowered his eyes, "Yes…"  
  
"About her?"  
  
"Yes… But this is different."  
  
"How?"  
  
"Last time was immediately before the Harvest Rite, and-er-" His alabaster skin flushed a delicate rose.  
  
"Ah," said Aragorn.  
  
Legolas cleared his throat. "That was a difficult time, Aragorn," he said. "But now-now I am dreaming about the future. Or perhaps a possible future." He shook his head. "I do not know." He described the dreams-the being of light, Eowyn's unchanging face, the Grey Havens and Tol Erresëa. "What do you think they mean?"  
  
Aragorn sighed. "I know what you must hope they mean, Legolas. And I have heard it said that our dreams during the twelve days of Yuletide foretell our future."   
  
The elf's expression almost broke Aragorn's heart.   
  
"But in truth, mellon nín," the man continued, gently, "I think it more likely that your own mind, unfettered by sleep, is using your dreams to paint a picture of the future as you want it to be."

****

**A glimpse of the past and a promise for the future**  
  
The fireplace, the pillars, and the beams of their severely elegant sitting room had all been decorated with garlands of holly, ivy, mistletoe, and fir cones; the windows had been hung with deep green velvet spangled with golden stars; and the mantelpiece and hearth sparkled with hundreds of tiny white candles.  
  
"Merry Yuletide, melmenya," said Legolas. He laid a large, flat parcel-wrapped in iridescent green gauze and decorated with a golden ribbon tied in a large, artfully arranged bow-on her lap.  
  
Eowyn ran her fingers lightly over the bow. "It is beautiful," she said. "I love it."  
  
"You have not opened it yet!" said Legolas.  
  
She pulled the ends of the bow, carefully untied the ribbon, and unwrapped the fabric. Inside the parcel was a gown of bright green velvet embroidered with clusters of golden holly leaves and deep red holly berries. "Oh, Legolas!" She held it against herself. The neckline, edged with golden braid, was cut very low, in the elven fashion. She looked at her husband, suspiciously.  
  
Legolas laughed. "You will look lovely, melmenya," he said. "Your wound will be fully healed by Yule. And look-this shift goes underneath. It will show at the neck-and preserve your modesty…" The shift was made from translucent gold silk, decorated with tiny golden snowflakes. "Try them on," he said. He helped her change out of her tunic and leggings.  
  
"The gown laces up the back…" said Eowyn.  
  
"Mmmmm," said Legolas, carefully tying the lace, "that way, you will always need help undressing, melmenya!" He carried her into the bedchamber and held her in front of the mirror. "Do you like it?" he asked.  
  
Eowyn examined her reflection. "It is the most beautiful gown I have ever seen," she said, kissing him tenderly. "Thank you." Then she added, excitedly, "Carry me over to the dressing table! But do not look!"  
  
When she was sure that Legolas' back was turned, she opened her jewellery box, took out a small silver key and unlocked the cupboard on her side of the dressing table. She sorted through a pile of small parcels and selected one, wrapped-rather untidily-in bright orange fabric. Eowyn made a last minute attempt to straighten its corners. Then she closed the cupboard door. "You can look now," she said, holding the present towards him.  
  
Legolas gave her a ravishing smile. "Thank you, melmenya!" He weighed it in his hand. It was light. He shook it. It made no sound.  
  
"Open it!" said Eowyn.  
  
Legolas carried her to the bed and, sitting beside her, carefully unwrapped the present. It was a large comb, carved from a single piece of dark red wood, its spine decorated with a line of intricately detailed Mûmakil. Legolas examined the animals carefully. "It is beautiful, melmenya, thank you." He sniffed it. "It smells of spices!"  
  
"I know. It is the natural smell of the wood. It comes from a tree that grows only in Far Harad."  
  
Legolas' expression suddenly turned wicked-he handed the comb to Eowyn.  
  
"Take off your tunic," she said, smiling.  
  
Once Legolas had slipped off his clothing, Eowyn carefully unfastened his braids and gently massaged his scalp. He sighed contentedly. Then she began combing, working out the few tiny snags, until she could run the comb through the full length of his hair. Legolas moaned and arched his back slightly. Eowyn smiled. She had had relatively little experience of men, but she was almost certain that this reaction was uniquely elven-and that her gift had been the perfect choice.  
  
"Lean forward," she whispered. She put the comb down and began to massage Legolas' neck and shoulders and to kiss the delicate points of his ears.   
  
"Gods, melmenya," he gasped, his back arching sharply.  
  
Eowyn laughed. "I love the way your ears are so sensitive…" she said.  
  
Legolas rolled over, pinning her to the bed, and kissed her hungrily, tickling her neck and shoulders with his mouth and his loose hair. Eowyn wriggled and laughed beneath him, and they hugged tightly. Then Legolas suddenly stilled. "Wait, melmenya! I have something else for you!" And he jumped up and ran into the sitting room.   
  
Moments later, he returned and placed another parcel on Eowyn's lap.  
  
Eowyn examined it carefully-it was a cylinder, about ten inches long, made from a brightly coloured material that was neither fabric nor parchment, but something similar to both, and its ends were twisted to form a sealed pocket in the middle.  
  
"Hold your end, tightly," said Legolas, grasping the other end. "Now-pull!"  
  
BANG!  
  
"OH!" cried Eowyn, falling over onto the bed, laughing.  
  
Legolas hugged her. "You have won, melmenya," he said. "See!"  
  
Eowyn looked at the remains of the cylinder. It had torn open, and she was holding the larger part. Inside was a slip of parchment and a small wooden box.   
  
"Why did it explode?" she asked.  
  
"It contains a small amount of the powder that Mithrandir used to use in his fireworks," said Legolas. "Pulling makes it explode-do not ask me how, Eowyn nín, for I do not know!"  
  
Eowyn grinned. "Where did you get it?"  
  
"Dol Amroth. I had a terrible time keeping it dry on the way home…"  
  
Eowyn read the parchment.  
  
"_I know a word of letters three,   
Add two, and fewer there will be_."  
  
She looked at Legolas questioningly.  
  
He grinned. "I am not telling you the answer, meleth nín," he said. "You will have to work it out for yourself. Open the box!"  
  
Eowyn picked up the wooden box and carefully removed its polished lid. "Oh!"   
  
It was a ring or, rather, two rings-one silver, one gold-flowing over and under and around each other. "It is a betrothal ring, melmenya," said Legolas. "I know it is a little late. But I wanted you to have one-I wanted to give you one." He took it from the box and slipped it on her finger.  
  
"Thank you," she whispered.  
  
…  
  
"FEW!" cried Eowyn.  
  
"Well done, melmenya!"  
  
…  
  
"All I said was- "  
  
"I know what you _said_. But what you want to _know_," said Eowyn, "is whether this lover I had before Faramir was Aragorn-you are jealous. That is why you are so angry-"  
  
"I am not angry-"  
  
"Yes you are. Why? Why does it matter if it _was_ Aragorn?"  
  
"It matters! It matters because I loved you, even then," said Legolas, furiously, "and because Aragorn was already betrothed. He had no right to take you. He had no right to-"  
  
"He did not!"  
  
Legolas stared at her, confused.  
  
"It was Theodred!" she said. "It was not Aragorn. Theodred was my first lover."  
  
"Theodred? Oh, melmenya," he reached for her, "melmenya…" He slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her close, burying his face in her hair. Eowyn did not resist, but she remained aloof.  
  
"How many lovers did _you_ have before me?"  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"Of course it matters-_now_! How many?"  
  
Legolas sighed. "Twelve," he admitted. "But I am much older than-"  
  
"No you are not! I am almost middle-aged; you are young for an elf! But I suppose," she added, "as a Prince, you were encouraged to sow your wild oats. I suppose some palace official was ordered to supply you with ellyth-"  
  
"Melmenya!"  
  
"You started this, Legolas, being jealous!" She sighed, and began tracing the muscles in his chest with her finger. "So who did you have before me?"  
  
"I cannot tell you that-"  
  
"Why not?" she asked. "I told you-and, besides, I need to know."  
  
Legolas sighed-she had a point. "There was a whore my tutor hired," he said, "after my coming of age ceremony-she was the first."  
  
"That is a sad way to start," said Eowyn, softly.  
  
"There was the daughter of my father's Chief Counsellor. Several other ladies at court-"  
  
"How many?"  
  
"Four. There was an elleth I-er-knew in one of the settlements to the north of Mirkwood. A serving elleth-"  
  
"Legolas!"  
  
"I treated her well… A dancer at Imladris, when I attended the Council of Elrond. And two bathing attendants at Lorien."  
  
"_Together_?"  
  
Legolas nodded, looking slightly embarrassed.  
  
"And then you tried to get _me_ into bed at Edoras-you were busy during the Fellowship," she said, dryly. "But that is only eleven. Who was the twelfth, Legolas?"  
  
He hesitated for a long time. "Arwen," he said.  
  
Eowyn was taken aback. "Arwen!"  
  
"It was many years ago, melmenya. Long before Aragorn was born…"  
  
"Was it serious-with Arwen?" she asked.  
  
"No, melmenya!"  
  
"Was it serious with any of them?"  
  
"No."  
  
"So it was just physical?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Were they better than me?"  
  
"Oh, melmenya!"   
  
"That means yes."  
  
"No! No it does not! No one could ever be better than you!"  
  
"Not even the whore?"  
  
"The whore was efficient."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"It was over in moments…"  
  
Eowyn smirked, her face buried in his chest. "That was not her doing," she said. "With you it is often over in moments."  
  
"Melmenya!"  
  
"Was she better the second time?"  
  
"There was no second time. She wanted more money."  
  
In spite of herself Eowyn laughed. She raised her head. Legolas smiled at her and she touched his face. "What about the others?" she asked, softly.  
  
"Oh, Eowyn! What if I were to ask you about Faramir and Theodred?"  
  
"Then I would tell you that Faramir was kind and gentle but that his heart was not in it," said Eowyn, "and that Theodred-Theodred was too much like Eomer-and I could not let go."  
  
Legolas kissed her tenderly and-at last-felt her relax into his arms.  
  
"I did begin to think," she said, softly, "that there was something wrong with me…"  
  
"No, melmenya. No! You are a wonderful lover-passionate and giving-I meant it when I said there was no one like you. Not for me. You give me everything I have ever wanted. You give me joy such as I never imagined existed."  
  
"Really?" Eowyn asked, with child-like insecurity. "Truthfully?"  
  
"Of course, my darling. We are perfectly suited, you and I. Human and elf."  
  
Eowyn nodded. "You are hot where I am cold and cold where I am hot," she said.  
  
"Melmenya?"  
  
"It is something I thought a few days ago," she said, softly. "But the truth is that we are not perfectly suited-the truth is that some of your 'brief affairs' with ellyth will have lasted for longer than my entire lifetime-"  
  
"Melmenya-"  
  
"I do not want to leave you, Legolas," she whispered.  
  
Legolas shook his head. "I will not survive you, Eowyn nín. I will die when you die-"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Shhhhh," he kissed her hand. "We will never be parted, melmenya. We will be together forever. I have made up my mind-"  
  
Eowyn pushed herself up on her hands in alarm. "To do what?" she cried.  
  
"To follow you," he said. "Woman and elf, we were both created by Ilúvatar. And the Valar gave you to me. Whatever happens to men when they die, wherever they take you, I shall follow. I shall beg to be admitted. It may take time, but I will persist-"  
  
"Legolas-"  
  
"Shhhhh. Will you wait for me?"  
  
"Of course I will wait for you."  
  
"Do you think your ancestors will accept me as your husband?"  
  
A single tear ran down Eowyn's cheek. "Oh my love… _yes_."  
  
"Then it is agreed?"  
  
Eowyn nodded.  
  
"Good," said Legolas, smiling. He reached up and lifted her bowed head until their eyes met and an answering smile transformed Eowyn's face-and then they grinned at each other like two children who had just agreed to be naughty.  
  
And when he turned her onto her back, and gently pressed her into the bed, she did not resist but wrapped her legs around him and returned his kisses with equal passion.  
  
…  
  
"Legolas?"  
  
"Mmmmm?"  
  
"Am I really better than Arwen?"  
  
"Oh, mel_men_ya!"  
  
THE END

The original stories are all thrillers set in the fourth age and also feature other canon characters-including Gimli, Haldir, Aragorn and Eomer-and OCs. The stories are, in order:  
  
_My bow shall sing with your sword_ (NC-17). Our favourite couple gets together. Eowyn travels to Legolas' colony of Eryn Carantaur, in South Ithilien, to take part in the Harvest Ceremony and finds herself helping him conduct a murder investigation.  
  
_To the Sea, to the Sea, the white gulls are crying_ (NC-17). After three months together, Legolas and Eowyn travel to Dol Amroth to take part in Prince Elfwine's Naming Ceremony. But someone is kidnapping elves-will Legolas be the next victim? Or will Eowyn lose him to the sea?  
  
_The time of the Orcs has come_ (NC-17). Legolas and Eowyn return home to find that several large bands of orcs have settled on the outskirts of Eryn Carantaur. Why are they behaving so strangely? Our favourite couple battles a supernatural enemy.  
  
_The lady vanishes_ (NC-17). WIP. Against the background of the Yuletide celebrations in Minas Tirith, Legolas and Eowyn investigate the disappearance of a young woman and uncover the villainy of a local crime lord. 


End file.
